


What Makes Us Human

by skillzyo



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Brittany and Santana are there and they're obviously in love, Criminal!Mack, Cyborg!Quinn, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Original Characters - Freeform, Quinn and Mack are both a mess in this fic for different reasons, Sort of enemies to sort of friends to sort of lovers, because Mack is great at getting herself into trouble, of sorts I guess, superhero au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23841700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skillzyo/pseuds/skillzyo
Summary: Alliance operative Quinn Fabray has recently been reassigned to Tetra, a city the rest of the world views as unworthy of saving. There she meets her two new caretakers, has run-ins with overpowered criminals, and tries to take down the ruling crime syndicate in the city. However, one petty criminal in particular keeps getting under her skin, both in costume and out.
Relationships: Quack - Relationship, Quinn Fabray/The Mack
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	What Makes Us Human

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic six years ago and, surprising no one, never finished it. But that Glee bug bit me pretty hard earlier this year, and I was actually pretty fond of this story and its premise, so I've decided to circle back to it, and see where it takes me. I'm also hoping working on this will spark my creativity, and get me writing more in general. So, here's a story with Quack, Brittana, superheroes, supervillains, and everyone in between.

**Hop-In Convenience Store  
** **Downtown Tetra  
** **October 12, 2054  
** **19:23**

Quinn wished she could say she knew the city streets like the back of her hand, but the truth was, the Alliance had sent her far beyond the familiarity of her home—one she had protected even before the incident—to a place she had only seen through a media lens, which painted a picture of a city past saving. As such, she spent the first few days of her posting in Tetra dressed in civilian clothing as she wandered the streets, acclimating to her new environment. She blended with the populous and tried to learn the city's layout as quickly as she could. Most importantly, she tried to get a feel for the people she was protecting.

The man at the corner store, for example, who allowed a child to choose any piece of candy from the display at the counter, no charge; the mother, who tried to hide her sigh of relief as she paid for the rest of the groceries; the teens outside who jumped up from their card game to help the mother and daughter carry the groceries back to the car and wished them a safe trip home.

A small smile forced its way to Quinn's face as she approached the cashier with her own purchases. She had been bound and determined to hate the place the Alliance had sent her. It wasn't her home, after all, and she didn't know these people like she did back in her town. It was too loud, too crowded, and stifling at times. But as the cashier flashed her a friendly smile and asked how her day was going, her resolve cracked and crumbled. A city with scenes like the ones she had just witnessed was worth saving, despite what the news may say.

Maybe the Alliance wasn't completely out of their minds for assigning her to the post.

She paid for the bottled water and muffin, enjoying the small talk with the cashier as she did so, then stepped outside into the parking lot. She sipped on the water as she walked down the sidewalk, subtly observing her surroundings and the citizens passing by her in droves. Some faces were a blur while others she was able to snap a photo of and file it away in her database, whether she wanted to or not. By the time she reached her apartment complex, her head was buzzing with the images and sounds she had collected on her stroll. The heavy stimulation from the day had left her reeling and, even after stepping through the thick, metal door to her new home, and sinking into the comfort of her couch, she was still on edge.

It wasn't until she opened the laptop on her coffee table, entered her password, pressed her thumb against the scanner, and watched the startup screen come to life that her tight muscles loosened, as if they could sense the nearby relief.

Quinn hummed to herself as she pulled a long cable from a worn messenger bag beside the couch and plugged it into one of the USB ports of the computer. The tune grew louder as she plugged the jack into a port hidden just behind her ear.

Of all the things that made her feel less than human, this necessity was the worst.

She could deal with the artificial arm and legs. She could handle the way her eyes sometimes zoomed in on things unbidden. She could tolerate the occasional burst of electricity that left her fingertips without her permission. Most days she could forget that those who responded to the incident—the Alliance—had turned her into a walking weapon. She could tolerate and even forget these things until she had to do the memory transfers into her computer.

Slowly, the weight of the images left her mind, and poured into the computer's database. The empty, blank-slate sensation left her slightly disoriented and fuzzy, but as she watched the images fill the monitor, she started to regain her bearings. She clicked through images of the people she had seen at the convenience store, and the streets she had explored on her way home. Once those were safely stored away in her brain's memory chip, she started skimming through other images and videos, enlarging those that caught her interest, and deleting those that didn't. As long as she immersed herself in what had been recorded, she could almost ignore the discomfort the process caused.

Quinn had tried to protest this necessity at first, but the efforts had produced… less than desirable results. She was bedridden for a week after her stubborn behavior caused an information overload, and nearly fried her memory chip.

Her drifting thoughts halted when she came across a video that intrigued her. Quinn leaned forward and pursed her lips as she studied the images of a young woman—possibly her age—approach an alleyway. Her thick dark locks were tied back in a messy ponytail that fell past her shoulders. Quinn couldn't see her face just yet, but she could see the dark jacket and jeans that adorned her body. The other woman slowly looked in all directions, most likely deciding if there was any danger of her being followed, before she slipped into the shadows of the alleyway. To Quinn, it seemed like she was engulfed by them.

She paused the video for a moment, and worried the inside of her lower lip. After a second of deliberation, she rewound the video, and returned to the moment the woman started looking around. She paused it again just as the woman turned towards her. Zooming in on the still image of the woman's face revealed lightly tanned skin, full pink lips drawn in a thin line, and hard brown eyes outlined by heavy use of eyeliner. A bandage strip across the woman's bruised nose suggested a recent break. A dark patch of skin poked out from beneath the collar of the woman's leather jacket, but Quinn couldn't tell if it was a tattoo, birthmark, or just a bruise. Given the possibly broken nose, the chances of the mark simply being a bruise were high.

It didn't take long for the uploaded picture to get a hit on the Alliance's database. Quinn pursed her lips once more as she read the description listed beneath the woman's mug-shot from 2050.

 **Name:** _Unknown_

 **Location:** _Tetra City_

 **Known Aliases:** _"The Mack"_

**Known Infractions:**

  * _Petty theft_
  * _Possession_
  * _Assault and Battery_
  * _Destruction of Private Property_
  * _Destruction of Public Property_



**Known Irregularities:** _None_

 **Known Affiliates:** _The Cobra Collective_

Quinn narrowed her eyes at the list of information and studied it a moment longer before she looked at the date the profile had been last updated: June, 2053. The woman's last known height and weight were listed as well, but she was more intrigued by the fact that this woman had managed to evade Alliance surveillance for an entire year. On top of that, Quinn was sure that the higher-ups in the Alliance would bristle at the ' _Unknown_ ' written where a name should be.

This Mack person was either very skilled or very lucky.

She studied the mugshot for several seconds, then saved it and the more recent photograph to her personal memory. She saved copies to her laptop as well before going through the rest of the videos her eyes had recorded throughout the day.

By the time Quinn reached the last video her chip had stored, she was struggling to keep her eyes open. She suppressed a yawn as she disconnected the cable from the port behind her ear and shutdown the laptop. The second yawn won out, however, as she headed for her bedroom. The soft mattress and silky sheets always seemed to feel ten times more amazing on nights after her memory dumps. Tonight was no different. Despite how exhausted she felt, she knew this was only the beginning. The last few days had only been reconnaissance.

Tomorrow night, the real work began.

* * *

**Ace in the Hole  
Downtown Tetra  
October 12th, 2054**   
**22:40**

Miles away from Quinn's new residence, The Mack sipped from a beer bottle as she laid down her cards for everyone to see. Maybe it hadn't been smart to stay in with a pair of two's in the beginning, but as the round had progressed, lady luck seemed to start swinging her way. She had exchanged two of her shit cards and wound up with the two Jacks she needed to make a full-house. This round was in the bag, and she couldn't stop the cocky smirk that graced her features as she reached for the chips in the middle of the table.

The jackhole next to her grabbed her wrist and squeezed before she could get far.

Mack gave the guy an apologetic smile, and yanked her hand away from the meathead. "Sorry, Dan-O. Didn't notice you there."

"I'm sure," he said before he took a drag from his cigar, the grey tip burning bright red as he laid down his hand: A full-house almost identical to hers. The only differences were, instead of a pair of two's, he had a pair of sevens, and a wicked grin to match his winning hand. He also had a pile of cash in front of him while Mack had nothing but the hole of debt she had dug herself over the last few weeks. With all eyes on her, she chuckled and rubbed the back of her head as she slowly backed away from the table.

"Y'know, it's always great playin' with you guys, but I've got an early morning tomorrow," she said. "Early to bed, early to rise. All that jazz, ya know?" Her not-so-subtle escape was cut short when she backed into a solid body. She tilted her head up and found another large, well-muscled man with his arms crossed over his large chest. He was an intimidating figure with his buzz-cut and the dark stubble that covered the majority of his chin. She sighed and cursed the good luck that seemed to be avoiding her. "Look, Stevie. We don't have to go see Jimmy tonight. We can pretend I didn't show up, yeah? And you can go home without a broken finger."

A large hand rested on her shoulder and squeezed even as the man said, "You know we like you well enough, Mack, but you also know the deal." His grip tightened, digging deep into her muscles.

She rolled her eyes at his strong arm tactics and quickly pulled herself out of his grasp, only to run into another one of Jimmy's lackeys: A slender woman not much taller than her with shaggy dark hair, and a scar etched into her right eyebrow. Mack had underestimated her once before. She didn't plan on making that mistake again.

"Jimmy's waiting in back."

"Of course he is," Mack said with a sigh.

She rubbed the back of her head again as she tried to work out a plan of escape. In the end, a wide grin was the best she could come up with before she ducked around Stevie, and sprinted towards the door. She was nearly there when the slender woman's body appeared in front of her. The force of impact knocked her on her ass.

God, she hated Supers.

The woman chuckled as she grabbed Mack by the back of her jacket collar and yanked her up. "You ever think you suck at poker because you have a tell?"

"Could be a factor, yeah."

A hard shove sent her stumbling forward. She glared at the slender woman, but straightened her posture so she could walk past the poker table with her head held high despite the loud hammering of her heart in her chest. When they reached the door on the far side of the room, Mack took a deep breath, and tried to gather her fleeing courage before stepping inside to face the consequences of her actions.

* * *

**Quinn Fabray Residence**   
**Downtown Tetra**   
**October 12, 2054**   
**02:03**

Quinn jerked awake, her chest heaving as she struggled to regain her senses. She ran her hand through her sweat-soaked hair, and tried to slow her breathing, but remnants of the nightmare lingered. She surveyed her surroundings, searching desperately for something to latch onto that would chase away the shadows that still haunted her.

Soft mattress beneath her.

Silk sheets knotted in one of her hands.

Sturdy, white walls surrounded her. 

Slowly, Quinn came back to the present, but the weight on her chest remained. She released a shaky breath, and chanced a glance at the clock on her nightstand. She groaned when she saw the time, and lay back in bed, flinging her arm across her eyes.

All the selective memory in the world, and she couldn't delete the one memory she wanted to rid herself of.

She turned her thoughts away from the dark images, and focused instead on the day to come. She needed rest if she was going to be of any use tomorrow night. With that thought in mind, Quinn tried to force herself back to sleep. She was nearly there when a crash from outside startled her. A frustrated groan bubbled in the back of her throat, but she told herself it wasn't worth getting upset over. It was probably some stray cat getting into trouble. Then there was another crash of garbage cans, followed by muffled swearing.

So much for the cat theory.

After a moment of debate, Quinn sighed, and pushed herself out of bed so she could look out the window and find the source of the noise. The glow of the streetlight on the sidewalk revealed little more than shadows in the alley. She closed her eyes and accessed the settings of her implants, cycling through until she landed on night vision. When she opened them again, the alley outside her building was painted in shades of green.

She scanned the area until she located the source of the sound she had heard: A woman lying prone on the ground surrounded by toppled trashcans. Quinn blinked, and her vision zoomed on the prone figure. The closer perspective revealed several injuries on the woman's person. It would seem her first night of helping Tetra's citizens would be sooner than expected.

Quinn turned from the window and started towards her bedroom door, only to realize her vision was still zoomed in when she stumbled over her feet. She cursed her stupidity, and quickly blinked back to her normal range of vision before continuing towards the door.

The rest of her journey outside the complex went smoothly with the night vision activated. It didn't take long to find the woman lying between the overturned garbage cans. She carefully approached the figure just in case she was still dangerous. Granted, she doubted the woman would willingly lay in garbage if she were well enough to be threat.

"Hello," she said in a quiet voice. When she got no response, she stepped closer so she could clearly see the woman. Her eyes were still open, staring up at the night sky. At first, Quinn thought she may have been too late, but then she noticed the woman's chest was still moving, so she called out in a louder voice to grab her attention. She knew it worked when the woman jerked—most likely from surprise—then groaned at the movement. "Sorry."

"Whatever. It's fine," the woman replied, but Quinn could detect the strain in her voice.

She was going to ask if she was okay, but thought better of it. She had seen the injuries from her apartment. Instead, she asked, "Would you like a ride to the hospital?"

"Not really," the woman said. "I'm good right here."

"You're lying in a pile of garbage."

"Yeah, I'm pretty aware of that, lady."

Quinn gritted her teeth, annoyed at the attitude. The only thing that stopped her from snapping back was the fact that she knew if the positions were reversed, she'd be irritable, too. Instead, she stepped closer to the injured woman, and crouched down to get a better look. Even through the hue of the night vision lens, she recognized the bruised face looking up at her.

It seemed this Mack person wasn't as lucky as Quinn originally thought.

"If you won't let me take you to the hospital, will you at least come inside?" Mack looked like she was about to protest, so Quinn quickly cut her off. "Or would you rather spend the night out here, freezing and waiting for whoever did this to you to catch up and finish what they started?"

That caught Mack's attention. Still, she seemed to hesitate before reluctantly accepting the offer. Quinn carefully slipped her arm beneath the injured woman's shoulder and helped her up. Once they were both standing—Mack leaning heavily against Quinn's side—she slowly guided the injured woman down the alley towards the front of the apartment.

"You're stronger than you look," Mack remarked in a tight voice.

"I get that a lot," Quinn said as she tried not to think about _why_ she was so much stronger than she looked. "Now be quiet. People are trying to sleep."

"Shit, if I had known you were going to be bossy, I would have stayed outside," the other woman said, but she complied with Quinn's demand as they stepped through the front doors of the apartment complex. She held her tongue until they reached the staircase. "Tell me you live on like, the second floor."

"Sorry," Quinn said.

"Great," Mack muttered before she allowed Quinn to guide her upstairs.

It was slow-going with a lot of pauses so Mack could regain her composure. Even with Quinn taking most of her weight, the trip upstairs still aggravated the woman's injuries. They were both relieved when they reached the fourth floor and Quinn led Mack out of the stairwell. Luckily, her door wasn't far from the stairs. Once they were inside her apartment, she led Mack to the couch she had been resting on hours earlier, looking up the woman's personal Alliance record.

"Why are you doing this," Mack asked. The exhaustion was evident in her voice as she watched Quinn flit around the apartment, gathering pillows and blankets from a closet near the hallway and a change of clothes from her bedroom.

"Because you were keeping me up, crashing into those garbage cans," Quinn said when she returned to the couch, blankets and pillows in her hands. She had turned the night vision off as soon as they entered her apartment. Now, with the lights on, she had a clear look at the woman she had dragged in from the alleyway.

Her nose was bloodied, and the bandage and padding that had been across it earlier that day were missing, revealing the crooked angle of the bone. She had a split lower lip, as well as some bruising along her jaw. Quinn's gaze traveled lower and landed on the woman's swollen hand, suggesting something was broken there as well. Judging by how much she struggled getting up the stairs, Quinn suspected a sprained or broken ankle, and possible rib damage.

In short, the woman really should have been in a hospital, not on her living room couch. Given Mack's criminal record, however, Quinn understood her refusal to go.

"Well, excuse me for being an inconvenience to your sleep schedule," Mack huffed.

Quinn shrugged as she placed the blankets and pillows beside her. She left the living room for a moment, disappearing into the kitchen. She returned with two ace bandages, a wet cloth, and a sandwich bag filled with ice.

"I can't do much for the damage to your ribs, but I'll do what I can for the rest of your injuries," she said as she placed her supplies on the empty couch cushion.

Mack stared at her for a moment before asking, "Do you always play doctor in your nighty?"

Quinn looked down and realized, for the first time, that she had gone outside in just her lace nightgown. She hadn't felt the cool night air on her legs earlier. While she had feeling and sensation in her artificial limbs, they weren't as sensitive as her actual flesh, allowing them to withstand more intense temperatures, as well as higher amounts of damage.

"Not usually, no," she replied as she brought the wet cloth up towards Mack's bloody face.

"I guess that makes me some kind of special then, huh?" Mack said, but her tone was bitter.

Quinn lightly dabbed at the cut on her face, and tried to ignore the hiss of pain it caused. "I suppose it does."

Once the blood was gone, she grimaced at the clear sight of the broken nose.

"You can just do it," Mack said. "I already know it won't feel too good."

As she predicted, resetting the broken nose was unpleasant for both of them: Mack because it hurt; Quinn because Mack smacked her out of reflex. Quinn brushed off the other woman's apology, and went back to her ministrations. Mack held the ice against her face while Quinn wrapped her swollen hand and ankle.

Once she was finished, Quinn leaned back and admired her handiwork. "If you won't go to the hospital, I suppose this will have to do," she said with a sigh. "At least get yourself checked out by… well, whoever normally does this stuff for you after you leave."

"Hey, what makes you think this isn't my first time getting the crap kicked out of me?" Quinn arched an eyebrow, and Mack looked down at her lap. "I mean, yeah. I'll do that."

"Good," Quinn said before getting to her feet. "Now sleep, and don't get any blood on my couch."

Mack grumbled under her breath. She distinctly heard the word 'princess', and smiled to herself as she disappeared into her bedroom and crawled back into bed. Several minutes later, the light in the living room was turned off, leaving the space beneath her door as dark as the rest of her room. As she lay in bed, she tried not to think about the strange situation she had put herself in, but it was nearly impossible to ignore. Her third night assigned to this city, and she already had a known criminal sleeping on her couch.

She was off to a great start.

* * *

 **Quinn Fabray Residence  
** **Downtown Tetra  
** **October 13, 2054  
** **11:30**

From her experience, it was unusual for criminals to stay in a strange place long—injured or not—so when Quinn left her bedroom, still clad in her nightgown, she was surprised to find Mack curled up on her couch. Quietly, she stepped back into her bedroom, and searched through her dresser for something more appropriate to wear. When she came back out, fully dressed, Mack was still asleep with her bruised face burrowed against the couch cushion.

She had expected Mack to be gone when she woke up, but now she had an unexpected house guest asleep in her living room. She scratched the back of her head, and wondered what she was supposed to do now. Mack looked too comfortable to wake, and while Quinn could be mean when necessary, she wasn't cold-hearted enough to force the woman out the door. So, she went to the kitchen instead and put a kettle on the stove. While the water boiled, the blonde pulled her copy of yesterday's newspaper off the small kitchen table, and carried it to the nook on the other side of the kitchen.

She took a seat on the soft cushion, brought her knees up to her chest, and rested the paper against her legs. While the skies were overcast, there was still enough natural light that Quinn could read the print without turning on a light. Reports of recent criminal activity were the first things she searched for. Every city had its problem areas and Quinn was determined to discover the crime patterns. Despite the scenes she had watched unfold the day before, she knew tensions were high throughout the city. She just needed to figure out where those tensions ran highest, and who tugged the strings. Her gaze drifted to the archway that separated the kitchen from the living room where Mack still slept.

In the grand scheme of things, her current house guest was a small fish, most likely food for bigger, meaner fish. That didn't absolve Mack of her crimes, but Quinn was sure the other woman would be of more use to her outside of a jail cell rather than in one. She would see what kind of information Mack could give her before she considered the alternatives.

A shrill whistle pierced the air in the kitchen, and Quinn set the paper down before going to the stove to pull the kettle off the burner. She had hoped to remove the kettle before it woke her guest, but she picked up sounds of movement coming from the living room. She glanced over her shoulder and could see the blankets shifting on the couch. She turned back to the counter and went back to preparing her drink. While she pulled out two cups and two packets of tea, she listened to the noises coming from the living room: A lot of swearing interrupted by several groans.

After the packets of tea had steeped in the water long enough, Quinn took them out to the living room. Mack had shifted into a sitting position at some point, leaving enough room for Quinn to sit beside her. She handed the woman one of the cups before blowing off some of the heat from her own. Mack's brow furrowed, and she cautiously sniffed the contents of her mug before taking a sip. Her expression immediately shifted to one of disgust.

"Thanks for the hot leaf water, but I think I'll pass," she said as she set the cup on the coffee table. "Do you have any real food around here?"

"That depends," Quinn said. "Do you have any real manners?"

"Hey, I didn't _ask_ to crash here," Mack pointed out. "If you're gonna invite a girl to spend the night at your place, you should really have breakfast ready for her, or at least something a bit more filling than tea."

Quinn had to bite back her response, but the grip on her mug tightened from the effort, and she felt the ceramic handle crack from the pressure. To hide the damage, she set her cup on the floor, careful to place it beside the couch so Mack couldn't see it.

"I didn't ask you to crash around the alleyway outside my window in the middle of the night, so I guess we both got something we didn't really want," she said in a level voice. Mack's scowled at the remark, but didn't argue. Quinn rolled her eyes, and stood up from the couch so she could disappear into the kitchen once more. When she returned, she tossed Mack a banana, only to remember at the last second that she really shouldn't be throwing things at the injured woman. She felt a twinge of guilt when she saw the flash of pain cross Mack's face while reaching for the tossed banana.

"You're kind of a dick, ya know?" Mack said when Quinn sat next to her again.

"And you're extremely rude," she remarked as she watched her struggle to peel the banana with one hand. Taking pity on her, she plucked it out of her grasp and peeled it before handing it back. She didn't expect a thank you, so she wasn't surprised when she didn't get one. Still, she did think back to when Mack winced, and once again left the couch to get some painkillers from the medicine cabinet in her master bathroom. Given her line of work, she tended to be well stocked with those. When she came back and handed them to Mack, she was finally rewarded with what could have been a grateful smile, but it quickly turned to a grimace when Mack washed the pills down with her tea.

"Still gross."

"You're welcome," Quinn replied as Mack went back to devouring the banana. Once she was finished, Quinn handed her the tiny wastebasket from beside the couch so she could throw the peel away instead of putting it wherever she had planned to drop it. After she returned the basket to its usual spot, she requested that Mack remove her shirt so she could check on the injuries she hadn't been able to tend to the night before.

"What kind of girl do you think I am?" she asked, but the cocky grin on her face spoke volumes as to what kind of girl she was. She slowly removed the shirt Quinn had loaned her the night before so she could get a better look.

Without the shirt, Quinn discovered that the mark she had seen in the video still from yesterday was, in fact, part of a tattoo. The portion she had seen was a maroon tongue of a snake. The rest of the tattoo was a red, coiled serpent etched into her shoulder blade. Quinn was by no means a snake expert, but she was willing to bet money that it was a depiction of a cobra. She'd have to make sure to save the image to her personal database during her next memory dump. With that in mind, she returned to her observations of the woman's injuries.

Black and purple stains marred the lightly tanned skin. She gently placed her hand against Mack's side and ran her fingertips along the ribs, trying to assess the damage. Her gaze sometimes landed on old scars as she felt for any breaks, and she tried not to think about what may have caused them. From what she could tell during their brief time together, the only real skill Mack had was saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, so it wouldn't surprise her if the scars were from her saying something she shouldn't have to the wrong people.

Her assessment done, she pulled her hands away and stood up. "It doesn't feel like anything is broken in there," she said as she picked her cup up from the floor, careful not to drop the broken handle in front of Mack, "but I would still check in with whatever medical contact you might have just to make sure." Quinn started to take the cup back to the kitchen, but when she reached the threshold, she looked over her shoulder at the injured woman and mustered a small smile. "I suppose you can stay here until you feel well enough to leave."

Mack was slowly reaching for the borrowed shirt when Quinn's words reached her. She paused, and looked at the woman who had allowed her to stay the night. Quinn made sure to hold her gaze until Mack shrugged and went back to pulling her shirt on.

After rinsing her cup out and placing it in the drying rack beside the sink, Quinn returned to the nook and her newspaper. The sky was still grey, but the sun was trying to peek through patches in the dark clouds. Just as she had done before, she settled against the wall, her knees bent in front of her, and read through the articles while listening for anything abnormal. Mostly, she just heard Mack moving around on the couch. She shook her head at the other woman's restless behavior, but maintained most of her focus on the information in front of her.

She was just starting to search through the classifieds for job prospects when she heard a faint buzzing sound in her ear. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out what it was. It was too soft to be coming from this room, so she folded up the newspaper and left her comfortable nest to seek out the sound. When she entered the living room, Mack was sprawled across the couch, staring up at the ceiling with a bored expression on her face.

"I can't believe you don't even have a TV in here," she said, but Quinn shushed her, which only made her grumble more. Quinn ignored the mumbled complaints and went to her bedroom, where the sound was coming from.

She could have smacked herself when she saw the lit up screen of her phone, which was buzzing beside her pillow.

The number was foreign to her, but it had an Alliance code—one of many—at the very front. When she answered, she was greeted by a very irritated, feminine voice.

"Do you know how long I have been trying to get ahold of you? All freaking morning. Do you need a new ear implant or were you just ignoring me for funsies?"

Ah. Her new caretaker, she supposed. She had forgotten about that. Quinn pinched the bridge her nose and shook her head. "No, I haven't been ignoring you and no, I don't need a new ear implant," she said. "I've just been busy."

"Yeah, well I'm busy, too, and now I'm going to be even busier because I wasted my time trying to get you to answer my calls," the woman on the other end said. "Thanks for that. I really appreciate it."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Okay, I get it," she said. "Now what is so important that you had to spend all morning blowing up my phone?"

"Mandatory check-up reminder," the woman replied, the irritation still clear in her voice. "You have an appointment tomorrow at fifteen hundred hours. I'd love it if you managed to get here on time."

"You could have just left a voicemail."

"They're important and you, Agent Fabray, have a reputation of skipping out on them and using the excuse that you didn't know about the appointment," was the response. "This is me being thorough and making sure you are completely informed of when the appointment is. I _will_ be calling again tomorrow, so keep your damn phone on you," the other woman said before there was a click, ending the call.

Quinn glared at the phone in her hand before sighing and slipping it into her pocket just in case she got more calls from her caretaker.

When she returned to the living room, Mack hadn't moved from her previous position, but her mug was empty. Now that Quinn was pretty sure there were no broken ribs, she'd let Mack take care of it whenever she felt like getting up. She wasn't her mother after all. Without a word to the woman resting on her couch, she packed up her laptop and took it back to her bedroom, where she stashed it in a safe, then locked it in her closet. She should have taken care of it before she went to bed the night before, but she had been so tired that it had slipped her mind. It was a sloppy mistake she would have to refrain from making in the future.

Once the laptop was secure, she went to her nightstand and pulled out her wallet. If she was going to be feeding both of them tonight, she needed to take a trip to the grocery store later. Until that time came, though, she'd go keep the insufferable woman on the couch company. After she slipped the wallet into her pocket, she went back to the living room to find Mack in the same position she had left her.

"Putting away the valuables, huh?"

"Yes," Quinn said as she crossed the room to the large bookcase set against the back wall. Her response evoked a huff from the woman on the couch.

"If I was going to steal something, don't you think I would have done it last night?"

"You could hardly move without my help last night," Quinn reminded her in a bored voice while she scanned the rows for a book to read. She decided on a book with a worn cover. One she had read front to back countless times during her recovery after the incident. "If you wanted to steal anything, you would have had to struggle down the stairs again, and I don't think you were capable of doing that without injuring yourself even more."

Mack grumbled something that sounded like an agreement. Quinn didn't push her for a more articulate response. Instead, she chose to sit in the black recliner beside the couch and get started on her book. Several minutes of silence passed before Mack broke it with another question.

"Do you even own a TV or somethin' else I can watch?"

"No," Quinn said as she turned a page.

"Is there _anything_ fun around here that doesn't involve reading one of your stupid books?"

"No."

Mack groaned, but she stopped asking questions for the time being, allowing Quinn to have the quiet atmosphere she had grown accustomed to over the year.

Quinn told herself she didn't miss the chatter as she flipped through the pages of her book.

* * *

 **Fusco Square  
** **Downtown Tetra  
** **October 14, 2054  
** **01:07**

It was windy on the rooftops of Fusco Square without the tall buildings to break the cool October gusts, but it hardly bothered the crouched figure perched on the ledge of one of the buildings. The black body armor kept her warm enough, and the black helmet stopped the wind from whipping the bright pink hair of her wig into her eyes. Far below Quinn's position, citizens still ambled around the bustling square. Yet another difference from her hometown.

Where she came from, there were never this many people out after midnight. Granted, Lima did not have a successful nightclub within its limits, let alone four within one square. She thought it was a bit excessive, but she also suspected the establishments were a front for other, more nefarious purposes. There were a lot of dark spaces within clubs where shady deals could be struck. Unfortunately, she didn't have enough information yet to attempt a bust on one of those operations.

Besides, she'd rather establish a presence in the city before she made any moves towards the bigger fish. She _wanted_ them to know she was coming for them. She wanted them to know what it was like to be afraid.

Her first night on patrol, however, had been quiet so far, aside from the drunken patrons stumbling from the buildings. Quinn sighed and tried not to think about what could be going on inside said buildings as she focused on the streets instead. After another dull half hour of sitting on the ledge without anything happening, though, she was thinking it was about time she moved on to a new location before she died of boredom.

She rose from her perch and backed away from the edge of the rooftop. With the push of a button on the side of her sleek helmet, a thick, neon green visor jutted out and covered the top half of Quinn's face, showing only her mouth and chin to those who encountered her. She blinked back to her normal range of vision so she wouldn't stumble on the rooftop, then closed her eyes so she could shuffle to her night vision. Once it was activated, she accessed her memory chip and, after some searching, brought up the schematics of the city she had downloaded before she left, along with the image of the crime reports she had read. Both pictures showed up side by side on her visor.

She skimmed through the reports once more before deciding on a target. A green dot appeared on the map of the city a few miles south of her position. She willed the reports away, leaving her with just the map on her visor. Deciding she had wasted enough time, Quinn started towards her new objective.

* * *

 **Burt's Auto Repair  
** **South Tetra  
** **October 14, 2054  
** **02:10**

South Tetra technically wasn't part of downtown, but from what Quinn had gathered from the chatter on the streets over the last few days, the citizens still referred to it as 'downtown' because of the dilapidated buildings and, well, the crime rate. From the top of the repair shop, Quinn had a good vantage point for the area. The buildings weren't as tall as those in downtown Tetra. There were also fewer groups of people, making it easier for her to track what was going on.

One group in particular had caught her interest.

They were a group of six, gathered in the darkness of one of the alleyways. She wouldn't have seen them without her night vision activated and even then, she had only spotted them because she caught a glimpse of one slipping into the alley, which had led to her moving to Burt's Auto Repair for a better view. Even with her ear implant, they were too far for her to hear what they were saying, but they were shoving each other and, from what she could tell, laughing. They all appeared to be in their late teens or early twenties, too; young with nothing to do and something to prove. It was a dangerous combination.

The shoving suddenly stopped as one of the guys in the group pointed towards a building across the street. It was a bicycle shop, blue paint peeling off the sides and a boarded up window in the front. Graffiti covered huge patches of the building. It didn't look like it had been open in quite some time. Quinn watched as the group slipped out of the alley and started towards the bike shop. When they approached the building, one of the young women in the group was the first to pick up a rock from the street.

This was technically the cops' territory—vandalism was not high on Quinn's list of crime—but she was there and the cops weren't.

She rose from her crouched position and, after a deep breath to calm her nerves, she silently dropped from the rooftop down to the cracked sidewalk. Her legs absorbed most of the impact, but she could still feel slight reverberations traveling up her torso. It seemed Burt's Auto was taller than it looked. She shook off the repercussions of her miscalculation and sprung towards the group of delinquents. Just before the young woman could throw the stone, Quinn grabbed her by the wrist, careful not to squeeze too hard.

"What the fuck?" came the startled response from the girl in her grasp. The rock dropped from her hand and she twisted to figure out which of her friends had stopped her. Quinn could clearly see the surprise on her face when the girl realized it wasn't one of her friends who had grabbed her. Her outburst also drew the attention of the rest of the group so all eyes were on Quinn.

As she suspected, the group was comprised of a bunch of teens and young adults. The piercings and tattoos didn't surprise her. None of the tattoos indicated any gang affiliation though, so it seemed they were only looking to kill time. They had chosen poorly, but she was relieved that none of them were working for a bigger group just yet. Maybe she could talk some sense into them.

"Don't you all have somewhere else to be? Like your own homes, for example," she asked in a low voice as she released the girl's wrist.

"Hey, freak. Daft Punk called," one of the guys in the group said. "They want their outfit back so they can burn it."

Quinn rolled her eyes. She hadn't dealt with poorly thought out insults since she was in high school, and she didn't plan on taking the bait now. "Go home now," she repeated, "and I won't call the cops."

"I'd listen to her if I were you," a man said from behind them. Quinn looked over her shoulder and found that another, older group had approached without her noticing. Maybe she did need a new ear implant like her caretaker had suggested. Unlike the teenagers, this group was armed. No firearms that she could see, but she doubted getting hit by one of their bats or crowbars would be pleasant for the teenagers she had approached.

The girl who had been making to throw the rock earlier stepped forward, defiance written in her stance. "For the last time, this isn't part of your turf, so get the fuck out of here."

The man who had spoken earlier chuckled. The sound was ominous and put Quinn on edge. "Silly, silly children should really learn to respect their elders."

It happened quickly. One moment the night was still; the next, two of the older men were lunging at the group of teens with their weapons up. Quinn's reflexes were faster, though. She kicked out the legs of one of the assailants, sending him flying into the pavement. The other, she grabbed by the back of his jacket collar as he ran past her and jerked him backwards, slamming his back into the ground.

The scowl on the leader's face was encouraging.

Rather than send two at her at a time, the four remaining lackeys lunged forward to overwhelm her. She grabbed the wrist of a man who aimed a crowbar at her head, and twisted, bones crunching in her grip. Another man was aiming a blow with his bat at her side, but she quickly turned so he hit his friend in the stomach instead. She shoved the man in her grasp forward so he crashed into the other. She stepped back just in time to avoid a pipe coming down on her head, but another lackey used the moment to his advantage and wrapped a chain around her neck.

The thick coils bit into her skin, cutting off her air supply. The attack had taken her by surprise, but she couldn't let herself panic. She was stronger than that. She had _always_ been stronger than that. While her movement was hindered by the assailant behind her, another man landed a blow across her stomach. Even with the body armor, it hurt. She knew there'd be a bruise there tomorrow. Before he could land another blow, Quinn kicked at his chest, sending him into the three men behind him. She grabbed the chain looped around her neck and tugged, ripping it from her captor's hands.

As she turned toward her unseen assailant, a neon green light lit up behind her visor. A formerly unseen pattern on her body armor lit up as well, tendrils of glowing green light creating a circuit design across the black body armor. The hum of electricity filled the air and the metal chain in Quinn's hand seemed to come alive, writhing in her grasp as an electric current traveled through the coils. When she started to swing it around her body, the thugs were smart enough to stay away from her crackling metal whip. Finally, she tossed it over the group that had surrounded her so it smacked the leader, who had hung back to let his lackeys handle her.

She had dialed back the electricity before she tossed it, but it still had the intended effect. Namely, sparking fear in the men who had surrounded her when their leader collapsed and convulsed on the ground. For added measure, she willed her mechanical arm to shift into one of its weapon forms: A miniature sonic cannon with enough force to knock a grown man on his ass. When one of the men lunged at her, he found out firsthand how powerful it was when it sent him flying across the street. His companions were smarter; they took off instead of attacking her. She watched their retreating forms before she turned back to where the group of teenage troublemakers had been. It seemed they had been so entranced by the fight, they had stuck around. Their gazes were locked on her armed arm, so she quickly willed it back to its usual form. It didn't stop them from staring, but at least they didn't seem so terrified with the weapon put away.

"I would suggest going home now," she said in a firm voice. "Or do you want to wait for another group of thugs to come jump you?"

The group of teenagers looked at one another and nodded, an unspoken message passing between them, before they scattered, leaving Quinn standing alone on the deserted street. She wasn't sure if she helped the kids or not, but a pained groan from the middle of the road pulled her attention away from those thoughts and reminded her she still had a job to do.

She spent the next few minutes gathering the two unconscious men and propping them up against a street lamp. She pulled a long cord from the belt around her waist and wrapped it around the men so they couldn't move from the post. When she was done, she checked them for any marks that may clue her in on which group they belonged to. She found matching tattoos on the back of their necks: Bull heads. She would have to look into the symbol later.

After admiring her handiwork, she stepped back and checked the time on her watch. It was already three in the morning. She worried the inside of her lower lip before deciding to do another round of surveillance throughout the city before she went back to her apartment.

* * *

 **Quinn Fabray Residence  
** **Downtown Tetra**  
 **October 14, 2054  
** **04:30**

Mack had been trying to sleep when her mystery savior left the apartment around midnight. She was sure the woman wasn't aware that she had been awake when she snuck out. Not that the strange lady owed her any explanation. For all Mack knew, the same woman who was letting her crash on her couch was a stripper or something. She didn't see any shame in that, but the way the woman crept out in the middle of the night made it seem like _she_ had some issues with her profession. Or maybe she was a nurse of some sort. She knew enough about medical stuff that it wouldn't surprise Mack in the slightest.

She wouldn't have heard the door to the apartment open if she hadn't been listening for it. She shifted her gaze from the ceiling—she was slowly starting to memorize that damn ceiling—and watched as her host slowly closed the front door then quietly crossed the room to her bedroom. Mack waited for a light to appear beneath the door, but the space stayed dark. She must have just crawled into bed, too tired to do anything more.

Most of her host was shrouded in cold bitchiness and mystery, but Mack was sure of one thing:

This lady was fucking strange.

People didn't help her out of the kindness of their hearts. People generally didn't help her at all. Everybody wanted something from her, and while she appreciated that she had been fed and given a place to crash, she didn't plan to stick around long enough to figure out what this woman wanted in return. As soon as she felt safe enough to go back to the streets, she would be gone, and she wouldn't have anything else to do with the woman. With that thought in mind, she closed her eyes and settled against the armrest so she could finally get some sleep.

She was definitely going to miss this damn couch, that was for sure.


End file.
